Our polling stations have just closed and a long night lies ahead for some. At my polling station the chap checking our photo ID greeted me theatrically with ‘Welcome to the brightest spot in BCP ( the very unoriginal name of our combined councils ). A dull church hall! Then he said ‘Do you like quizzes.‘ Yes I do. ‘Just one question, what is your name?‘ Luckily I passed.
Out and about all day, passing polling stations that weren’t mine, I did see a steady trickle of people heading to vote. On the news they are not allowed to mention politics so instead they kept showing pictures of dogs tied up outside polling stations. Someone on Facebook complained that dogs were not allowed in. One of my earliest memories is of standing outside a polling station in the dark with a tall policeman, the traditional Bobby with a helmet, while my parents went inside. My daughter took her boys with her to vote at 7am and they were allowed in, though probably not allowed to draw pictures on the ballot paper.
Coverage of the count has started on television, how to fill in the long hours waiting for the first count to come in? Lots of intense discussion about what happened last time and what may or may not happen this time. Excitement builds as we start seeing candidates on the stage setting their faces for the right expression when the numbers of votes are read out… Count Binface, Sensible Party 6023 votes, Janet Gogerty, Tidalscribe party 23 votes…
Will you be staying up to follow the results?
If you don’t live in the United Kingdom are you interested?
It is 1964 and in our little house in England we are saying goodbye to my mother’s lifelong friend and her husband. See you in 1984 the adults were saying. I did not get the joke about the year, but 1984 seemed far, far into the future. We were about to emigrate to Australia and the friends planned to visit us in 1984 when the husband retired.
Today is 1984 Day. George Orwell’s novel was published on 8th June 1949 and you can listen to it being read all day ( with breaks and different readers ) on BBC Radio 4. As you will have missed some by the time you read this, it is available on BBC Sounds. If you are elsewhere in the world I am not sure if you might come across it floating in the ether.
I first read 1984 in high school and by that time realised the year 1984 represented ‘the future’ or a future we hoped would not be realised. 1984 still seemed a long way off.
1984 came and went in a flurry of toddlers, nappies and ordinary life, though we paused to contemplate that the future had been and gone and we were having a better time than Winston Smith, well some of us. The next unimaginable future date was 2001, a new century and would it be like the Space Odyssey?
The new millennium started and we hurtled towards a quarter century without yet living on the moon. There is no longer a year number that represents the future. Has Orwell’s novel come true?
Big Brother, or at least someone is always watching. Not only are the final movements of missing people recorded on CCTV, but householders place cameras over their front door as easily as fitting a door bell. Police expect householders to hand over evidence and if you ring someone’s doorbell a disembodied voice will say ‘ Hi Joe you’re early, just walking the dog’ or ‘I’m in Scotland on holiday, can you leave the parcel with the neighbours.’
Thought police? We’ve created them ourselves, calling people out if they appear to be anti-something just because they expressed being in favour of someone or something else, or were overheard making a witty joke. In many countries of course, Thought Police are patrolling social media and journalism.
The 1984 holiday never happened. Mum’s friend’s husband had a degenerative condition that cancelled their holiday plans. You never know what’s going to happen in the future, except it inevitably becomes the past.
You may think Southbourne-on-Sea a fairly benign place, no bears or lions and no murders most weeks, but danger still lurks everywhere.
You can easily fall in when you take your discarded garments to the recycling bin…
Or trip and fall into an open grave.
Mown down by a three year old or ninety three year old on their scooters or any age on E-Scooters ?
Attacked by a pack of Woolly XS dogs…
Then there is the unexpected threat from nature in spring… the other day I was walking down the road and by unfortunate coincidence passed by at the exact moment a crow was chasing other birds away from attacking a bird in the gutter; it’s baby probably, though there is no CCTV evidence. It presumed I was part of the attack and dive bombed my head twice, drawing blood, though not enough to cause a visible drama. There were no human witnesses, no photo opportunities for Facebook, one of the rare occasions when I wasn’t dodging other pedestrians with phones in their hands.
I did think of reporting this on local social media, but knowing the thousands of comments, arguments and blame that wild birds and grounded baby birds usually evoke, I did not. Looking up on the internet it seems attacks are not uncommon if humans are too close to nesting crows. Though of course it could be the start of birds taking over the world… Scarier is the fact that crows are very intelligent and remember individual humans, so perhaps I can never walk down that regular route again.
All crows in this blog are played by actors. The Corvid Community would like to point out that they never attack humans and all allegations are totally unfounded.
How long is a moment? Perhaps as long as the BBC time pips which are celebrating their centenary this very day.
‘The pips have been broadcast daily since 5 February 1924 and were the idea of the Astronomer Royal and the head of the BBC.
Originally they would have helped people set their watches and clocks to the exact time, now our phones, radios and many of our clocks are connected by magic to the beating heart of the universe. Though some say the National Physical Laboratory is responsible.
The pips for national radio stations are timed from an atomic clock in the basement of BBC Broadcasting House synchronised with the National Physical Laboratory.
There are six pips which occur on each of the 5 seconds leading up to the hour and on the hour itself. The first five last a tenth of a second each, while the final pip lasts half a second. The actual moment when the hour changes is at the very beginning of the last pip. I checked the clock on my radio and sure enough the clock changed to the hour exactly on the last pip. Looking up more facts surrounding our precious pips and how the whole world keeps time can lead you down a rabbit hole, perhaps you will even meet Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit with his pocket watch. But do we still need the pips? Yes, they are a precious few moments when broadcasters actually stop talking, a moment of peace before we are weighed down by the latest round of news.
When your neighbour’s greenhouse is bigger than yours.
When Dracula’s roof needs repairing.
A seat in the sun.
Or perhaps you would prefer to linger with a beach view.
But don’t linger too long.
Or you could sit in the warm in an American diner…
…and still be by the English seaside.
When you order a game on Amazon and get the German version. At least it comes mit 2 mini-erweiterungen. If you haven’t played Qwirkle it’s good fun and you can probably guess it can be played in any language! The rules come in several languages, none of them English; well we shouldn’t smugly assume there is always an English translation. The omission of English is probably due to Brexit, another annoyance for we Remainers! Luckily I found a good YouTube video ( American ) on how to play when friends came over to be introduced to the game.
The monthly coffee morning at our little local library is different each time. We never know who might turn up, how many or what we might be doing. Could be a talk, a quiz, scrabble on the table…. This morning there were some new faces including a small, lively elderly lady with a large son. She told us he was an autistic savant and asked which of us knew the day of the week we were born, but don’t say it out loud. Then we each told him our date of birth and he got the day right every time.
How? Was it memory or a mathematical formula. With 52 weeks in a year plus one day, we know our days move by one each year, except for leap years… It only took him a few moments to come up with his answers. I have to admit that one lady gave her daughter’s birth date and he said Tuesday, she said it wasn’t. Asked again he said Tuesday. I asked her what time of day and she said noon, which precluded a date vagueness around midnight… She was a new person we didn’t know; was she telling the truth, perhaps she misremembered…
He also remembered the football match results for any date you named, but unless you are a football fan that is not so interesting. His mother said unfortunately he couldn’t predict future results, only remember past, so winning the football pools was just a dream. Finally she said ‘Okay, he’s done his party trick we’re off now.’ And off he went with his eight library books.
Most of us, if we fly from a busy airport, probably don’t know the make, model and safety record of the plane we are going on. We don’t even see what it looks like on the outside. Perhaps there are apps and websites to go on, I haven’t flown for years so don’t ask me. I certainly know that members of my extended family have flown safely over most continents. If you had access to information that your type of plane often had lose bolts, just like the one whose panel and window fell / was sucked out, at least you could make an informed choice.
Also having a lucky escape were the passengers on the Japanese plane colliding on landing with a small plane which sadly wasn’t so lucky. Do you have trouble finding, doing up and undoing your seat belt when someone offers you a lift in a car you are unfamiliar with? That would be me on the Japanese plane. With my dyspraxic hands I would never get undone in ninety seconds let alone get out, down the chute, film what was happening on my phone and manage not to drop the phone on the way out. Find out the names of the cabin crew and book them for your next flight, they got everyone out safely.
Have you been to a cat café? My Aussie relatives have been on a mega Euro holiday. Having been on husky sleds and met the real Father Christmas, going to a cat café in London was one of the last treats for my great niece. Her aunty booked a table for afternoon tea and it cost £lots, but as cat lovers it was worth it apparently. Coincidentally I had just been down an internet rabbit hole to see what happened to the kitten that didn’t stop growing. Disappointingly it did not turn out to be an albino lion and eat the owner, but an affectionate very large Maine Coon. So I recognised the rather scary, very fluffy cat investigating their scones in the picture that appeared on my phone. Apparently it was not fully grown yet. I think I would rather eat my afternoon tea without a big fluffy cat on the table. At home the relatives’ cats are not allowed out; letting your cat kill the native birds and marsupials of Western Australia is frowned upon.
Ironically they were astonished how many eateries and pubs in England allow dogs in. I guess we have no need for ‘puppy cafes’ as our cafes are already full of dogs.
Happy Birthday Doctor Who. Many of us, including the media are indulging in nostalgia as it is sixty years since BBC children’s drama series Doctor Who appeared on our screens. I was always rather resentful that I missed the first episode as we got stuck in traffic on the way home. In those days if you missed a programme that was IT, no recording on your video player, or catching up on iPlayer. It was not until 1990 when we bought a boxed set of videos of the first four episodes for a relative, that I discovered why the Time Lord travelled in a police phone box. The Tardis was meant to change its appearance to fit the surroundings wherever and whenever it landed. It landed in 1960’s London, but due to a technical fault ( or perhaps the BBC budget ) the Tardis remained a police box forever.
It was the second series that introduced the iconic Daleks. With sink plungers their only weapons and unable to climb up stairs, they still struck terror in our hearts. I only have to hear the word EXTERMINATE and a chill goes down my spine. I only have to hear the words Radiophonic Workshop and the electronic theme music fills my head.
Urban myth has it that children used to hide behind the sofa when the Daleks were on and I know this to be true. My aunt and uncle for many years recalled my friend hiding behind the sofa at my 11th birthday party and this same friend today recalled that she did indeed hide behind the sofa.
Doctor Who is wandering round my local area at this very moment, his police box is parked in the middle of Boscombe.
Back to adult television in 2023 and at last there is a drama with Janet as the lead character. Unfortunately she has her fingers chopped off in the first few minutes… well only one hand. Boat Story is a black comedy drama and there were more scenes I couldn’t watch!Not sure if I can face the second episode…
For proper adult drama I am really enjoying the second series from Australia of The Newsreader, set in the 1980s.
Were you a Doctor Who fan?
I know not all bloggers watch television, no doubt having better things to do like reading our blogs and writing their blogs. If you are a viewer have you found a favourite programme lately?
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 